I was a dream that ran down her face, in rivulets. I was washed down by the rain into the drain. I became a dream in a stream. She slumped over her phone, texting. As she cried, I ran faster down her cheeks.

Someone touched her shoulder from behind; I heard a voice speak louder than the dripping raindrops. She turned around and I stopped. I stopped running down her cheeks, I was soaked back up into her heart.

“Sorry I am late. Am I allowed to kiss you here?” the voice speaks. She nods, I feel safe, for now.

Thank you Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesday. I have missed writing stories. This is my first after a long time. Visit the link to read more tales.

Thanks to my friend erroneous choices, we are having some fun with the Liebster Award, ie, she nominated me. Thank you dear friend ❤

She feels as I do, and that is, I have never really understood blogging awards, and haven’t really got involved with them, (apart from one over a year ago) no offense to anyone, but I so enjoyed reading the questions posed to her and her answers. Actually, she combined the questions from two different awards so I am going to keep on with the fun and just pick and choose…

1. What drew you towards the art of writing?
This is a good question…I have felt so shy and awkward for most of my life, I guess, as for a lot of people, it was a way to express myself, and hopefully make some sense of my thoughts in the process. I sometimes wonder that when I was little I subconsciously did it as a memory tool, because my memory is not that great. I remember I always liked to write everything out, even in the air, words, numbers, math problems…I liked to visualise it, and I loved the way certain words looked. Yikes, am I rambling? Sorry…

2. What is the one thing you like about yourself and why?
Um, I have never really liked this question.
But, if you insisted, I would say I do laugh easily. Especially at myself. I can have a good time, even when things are not going so well.
But it has helped to diffuse a number of tricky situations…humour, laughter is powerful – Captain Obvious 🙂

3. What is that one change you want to see in the world?That people would stop yelling. Literally, figuratively, all kinds of ly-s. (Unless it is for humourous purposes).

I’m the man in the iron cage, the pilgrim with an unrepentant, unyielding heart, the prophet who has regressed into a poet with anguish breaking through bone, and then skin, the tendrils tying my tongue, muting my real howl and creating a soft shriek which they consider beautiful. I’m the Kierkegaardian stereotype, a freak tortured and tormented by his panoramic paranoia, a twisted, fucked up birds eye view of skulls and enemies, of corpses punching keys and hate, and I can’t see a horizon. I’m the label of everyone’s disgust, an animal in an asylum which sensibly speaks, but in alliteration—the zookeeper’s delight. “Look now, here’s Mr. Bipolar. Hysterically jump or flat line, it’s your prerogative, but make sure you entertain, because they’ve paid with their time and energy. Be Quick!” But the more I rattle, the more they rile. The more I lie, the more they cry, until I…

a small pin cushion I had made for my mother when I was in high school, when I first learnt some cross stitching.

I can’t believe my mother is now eighty years old, and she is still using it!

Her sense of humour well and truly intact, as that spear of a needle in its right ear, was, initially, right in the middle of her forehead (that innocent bunny’s, not my mother’s).

It is funny about memory, because I had completely forgotten about it, of course, but as soon as I saw it, I remembered how upset I was that I had made a stitching mistake on its left ear. And I had somehow missed a couple of stitches on the other ear. My sweet mother didn’t want me to fix it, but I remember how utterly crushed I was.

Yesterday I watched a video on a science site about intelligence.Behold a short conversation I had with my husband this morning:

Me: I watched a video yesterday…blah blah…and it turns out I could be a perfectionist.Husband: slowly closing refrigerator door…come to think of it, I can’t describe, accurately, the look on his face…

I am on Facebook. And a number of things have happened recently where I have really re-pondered social media.

Then a pastor friend posted this video about Facebook, including interviews with a couple of the original players. It was timely. If you find yourself with a spare 15 minutes sometime, I really recommend you watch it. You may have already seen it, and I know a lot of you have the same concerns etc. (Something I have loved about WP, it seems that generally there is a shared spirit amongst users that it doesn’t become toxic like these other platforms. Of course, it does sometimes, but overall, my experience has been wonderful. I hope yours has too.)

(It does have a clickbait title, unfortunately. But it is a very worthwhile video.)

I have thought about ways to be a little more real on here, too..I did record myself reading one of my poems, but I have had trouble uploading it. Not a hard process in theory, and I followed all of the steps, and it is still not working. I will persevere…

In the mean time, I thought I would add a selfie I took today. I really don’t like taking them, so there won’t be more for a while and it is in black and white because, geez, I don’t want to be that real… Plus, I didn’t want to make you jealous, northern hemispherers, by showing off my tan 🤡 Actually, it isn’t a big deal. I hardly wear makeup, after all.

And now it is really warm outside, and in the spirit of taking my ponderings seriously about screen time, I am signing off for now to go have a drink with my husband. Hopefully catch you soon as I really do love reading and looking at all of your amazing work! Take care WPers. Let’s make a better world…or at least, try.

originally posted 26th March, 2017

when I was walking around trying to avoid the mosquitoes and you strummed your guitar to the rhythm of my steps and the syncopated clouds confused you and we said it was the best thing you had ever written?

It can be what we want it to be.
Well, sometimes. There is such a thing as unrealistic expectations but that’s not what this post is about. This post is simple. This post will simply concentrate on the lovely simplicity of simple friendship.

Take the friendship cats offer just as one example:

Can’t get more simple than that. (And when I say simple, I may mean complex)

Then there is the simple friendship of my five six year old niece, who I have posted about before with her awesome stories. She is also an amazing artist. Here is some of her work, capturing, once again, the simple friendship cats have to offer:

This cat is obviously simple, as it is talking to itself. (But wouldn’t you agree, this art is simply incredible?!)

I love our nieces. And our nephews. All of our family. But especially the ones who are cute. Pure and simple. They make me feel noble things like this:

And that’s pretty much all I think can be said for friendship. Please do not correct me if I am wrong.